the streets are all violent with murderous excitement
“So I have heard.” Astaroth murmurs, chuckling lightly beneath his breath. It often spread through the Dusklight, who had the privilege of spending the night with the Maverick in his own room, something Astaroth imagines is likely one spread about his own with how little anyone else (except Danta) shared his space. But that’s far past his thoughts as he steps in and takes in the large room, spotting the incredibly comfortable bed adorned with furs and blankets, to let his dark gaze take in the shelves, full of trinkets and things from varying travels.
Nodding, Astaroth steps further in, shedding out of his coat and gloves to be left in a nice black and gold silk shirt, folding the gloves and slipping them into the pocket of the jacket. He hangs it up on somewhere where it wouldn’t be an inconvenience and out of the way. The cane is set up against a dresser of sorts, and he starts to roll up his sleeves. “What a treasure hoard you have, darling.” He compliments, drifting over toward the fire as he unbuttons the first two buttons of his shirt, embracing the warmth of the much larger fireplace, waiting for Danta to wrangle the glasses and mulled wine.
Nodding, Astaroth steps further in, shedding out of his coat and gloves to be left in a nice black and gold silk shirt, folding the gloves and slipping them into the pocket of the jacket. He hangs it up on somewhere where it wouldn’t be an inconvenience and out of the way. The cane is set up against a dresser of sorts, and he starts to roll up his sleeves. “What a treasure hoard you have, darling.” He compliments, drifting over toward the fire as he unbuttons the first two buttons of his shirt, embracing the warmth of the much larger fireplace, waiting for Danta to wrangle the glasses and mulled wine.
Astaroth
the hunter and the prey are dancing every day
